With its edges and seams
Patches and protrusions
Love is a wild thing
With its cries and screams
Scrapes and bruises
Love is a tired thing
With its braces and themes
Branches and uses
But it doesn't matter.
Love is a true thing
With its life and dreams
Bursting with new
Though time wears us thin
And life rubs us raw
The trail is left dim
When a breath we can't draw
For love is a great thing
That binds us through
For when I think of love in this way
I always think first of you
No comments:
Post a Comment